


Date Night

by pocky_slash



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Double Dating, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-19
Updated: 2010-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/pseuds/pocky_slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the people pushing for a double date are not the ones you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Night

**Author's Note:**

> This may, one day in the future, have a part two. But really, my brain can't think of it right now, and as it's just fanfiction on the internet, I'm not going cry in agony if it feels a little unfinished.
> 
> Written for [](http://remuslives23.livejournal.com/profile)[**remuslives23**](http://remuslives23.livejournal.com/) , who requested double date fic. Um, sorry this is the opposite of what you wanted. With thanks to [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=soslticezero)[****](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=soslticezero)for betaing and laughing in the right places, even if I didn't take her advice.

Gwen has apologized roughly twenty times by the time they round the corner towards the carpark. She hasn't been counting, but she knows it's been a ten minute walk and she's been saying it about every thirty seconds, despite Rhys' protests.

"It's okay, love," Rhys says for the twentieth time. "I understand. Saving the world is more important than a missed dinner reservation, yeah?"

"But it was _your birthday_ ," Gwen insists.

"And I got to spend it fighting aliens," Rhys says. "Brilliant!" He puts his arm around her waist pulling her close as they cross the street. It was a rather exciting birthday, she supposes. Sure, they lost their reservation to the posh restaurant run by the chef on the telly that Rhys likes so much, but Rhys got to drive a bulldozer into an alien spacecraft and help Owen tend to a laser burn, so it could have been worse.

"Still," Gwen says, "I know how much you've been wanting to go there and it really wasn't fair that those Bristalians chose last night to invade." She had hoped she'd be able to beg them a reservation for tonight after botching last night's birthday plans, but the place was full up for three months. It figured. She reminds herself to talk to Ianto about it in the morning--Ianto always seems to be able to pull things like posh reservations out of thin air.

"I'm sure we'll--oi, is that Ianto?"

Gwen looks over to where Rhys is pointing. It is, indeed, Ianto standing at the curb, head bent low as he talks into his cellphone. He's wearing a clean suit and his hair is styled the way he styles it when he's trying to look like he's not styling it at all. If Ianto is there, that means Jack can't be far behind, and she's about to suggest that perhaps the two of them should pretend they haven't seen Ianto at all when Rhys calls out, "Oi! Ianto! How are you, mate?"

Ianto glances up. His frown exists for nothing more than a split second before it smooths into a neutral smile as he says something into his mobile and then hangs up. Rhys is crossing the street to where Ianto is standing, pulling Gwen with him despite her protests. She and Ianto have the night off, a whole night to themselves after the mess they got the rest of the team out of yesterday. Jack also has the night off, and Ianto had implied that Jack was going to be using the night to apologize for the exploding jelly-thing and the laser burn. Gwen really doesn't want to interrupt.

"Rhys," Ianto says. His smile is genuine when he reaches out to shake Rhys' hand. Ianto honestly likes Rhys, and for that, Gwen is eternally glad. It makes it easier for her to invite him over for dinner and to watch the match. It makes it easier for the two of them to, however briefly, pretend that Torchwood doesn't exist and they are normal friends doing normal things. "Thanks again for your help yesterday. And I'm sorry for calling you all those things."

"Don't mention it," Rhys says with a laugh. "I'd be saying worse if it was my arm on fire. Plus, it wasn't half as rotten as the things you were saying to other people." Rhys smirks. Ianto's cheeks flush slightly. "Speaking of, you here with your bloke, then?"

Ianto nods. "He's inside, chatting with Anton," he says. "Normally we call in advance--no, scratch that, normally _I_ call in advance to tell him we're coming, but Jack thought it would be a nice surprise."

Gwen notices for the first time that they're standing in front of the French restaurant she's always wanted to try. She recalls, vaguely, something about one of the owners and Jack and a standing reservation, the murky background details of a funny anecdote that Ianto shared one night at the pub.

"And don't you look lovely," Ianto continues, taking in Gwen's green silk dress and Rhys' suit and tie. "Special occasion?"

"Rhys' birthday," Gwen says, smiling sadly.

"Thought that was yesterday," Ianto says.

"It was," Gwen says. "We were supposed to go out, but that thing with the jelly things--well, we got a little tied up and missed our reservation. They couldn't get us one for tonight."

"I told her, it's fine," Rhys says, patting her shoulder. "We'll go round the local or maybe that Italian joint by the bay. Class the place up a bit, yeah?"

Ianto frowns. "I'm sorry," he says. He looks away for a moment, and then rounds on them with a grin. "How do you feel about French?" he asks. "I'm sure Jack's finagled a table out of Anton by now. You could take our place."

"Oh, no, mate," Rhys says. "We can't do that! This place is almost as tough to get into as the other one."

"We have a standing reservation," Ianto says. "Jack knows the owner. Let's say... he's not local. We honestly eat here all the time--it's no trouble. It's the least I can do after all your help yesterday."

Gwen's not adverse to the idea--Ianto and Jack do, in fact, eat here more frequently than almost anyone else in Cardiff and if she knows Ianto, he'd rather be home with a pizza and some beer to nurse his aching arm anyway. It's a point of contention between the two of them, Ianto and Jack--Jack likes to apologize for perceived wrong-doings with food and extravagance. Ianto likes to spend at least twenty-four hours sulking and nursing his wounds. Ianto must be very tired or Jack very penitent for them to be out tonight.

"Well," Gwen says, glancing at Rhys and raising her eyebrows. Rhys glances back and forth between her and Ianto, as if he can't quite believe this is true.

"We couldn't?" It comes out like a question, hesitant at the end as he looks at Ianto plaintively.

"Really," Ianto says. "I'd much rather put my feet up after yesterday--" He gives Gwen a look and adds, "and today." Gwen smiles apologetically, although it really wasn't her fault, the thing with the green foam. It was entirely Owen's doing, she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"If you and Jack really don't mind..." Rhys starts to say, but, as if summoned, Jack suddenly appears, laughing, with his arm around an older gentleman. The man is a good foot shorter than Jack and has a wild mess of snow white hair. He's laughing too, and grins when he sees Ianto.

"Monsieur Jones!" he says, leaving Jack's side and shaking Ianto's hand with both of his own. "Lovely, so lovely to see you!"

Despite the French name and the French word and the French restaurant, the man--Anton, she supposes--has a London accent. Ianto smiles at him graciously.

"Hello, Anton," Ianto says. "You know, I normally wouldn't ask this, but I was wondering if you would allow our friends, here, to take our table for the night." Jack's smile disappears. "We got on the bad side of Bristalians last night and, unfortunately, they lost this gentleman's birthday reservation in the process."

"Ianto...." Jack says in a tone that Gwen never hears at work but frequently hears outside of it. Ianto, though, ignores him.

"Even better," Anton says, clapping his hands together, "I'll get you a table for four. How's that, Capitaine? A double date for you and Monsieur Jones and this lovely couple?"

Before Jack or Ianto can reply, Anton is back in the restaurant, calling, "Un moment!" over his shoulder.

Ianto looks dismayed. Jack looks... delighted.

Oh. Oh no. That cannot possibly be good.

She turns to Rhys, meaning to suggest that they head home or to a pub or anything, really, but Rhys is looking thoughtful as well.

"That's not a bad idea," Jack says. "Solves all our problems, doesn't it?"

Ianto makes a noise that sounds something like a kicked puppy. His eyes are wide and panicked. Gwen knows how he feels. She had, at one point, early in their friendship, entertained the idea of a double date. She imagined she and Rhys and Ianto and Jack going out after work for a quiet meal. She imagined that Rhys and Jack learned to get along and they all had a brilliant time sharing stories and swapping plates and being in each other's presence.

Then she came back to _planet Earth_ and realized that _could never_ and _should never_ happen. Ianto, she knew, agreed. Oh, it was fine when she went out with Ianto and Jack, if a little more... affectionate than she was used to. And Ianto, of course, came round hers and went out with her and Rhys from time to time. But Jack and Rhys together? She and Ianto and Jack and Rhys together, for a meal, in a nice restaurant?

"Really, Jack, it's fine," Gwen says quickly, winding her arm through Rhys' and taking a step back. "We'll just go home. You two have a nice night out, yeah?"

"Nonsense," Jack says. "We're all adults. We can have a meal together. It will be fun!"

"It's for Rhys' birthday," Ianto says. There's a shade of desperation in his voice, and if Gwen can pick up on it, then Jack can as well; he's just choosing to ignore it. "We shouldn't intrude on Gwen and Rhys' night together. It's bad enough we ruined his actual birthday. I didn't want to come out in the first place, remember?"

"And really," Gwen says, "what if something happens? It will be bad form if all four of us have to abandon dinner because of Torchwood, won't it?"

"Tosh and Owen can handle Torchwood for the night," Jack says firmly. "And I'm sure Rhys doesn't mind our joining him. I mean, if he's going to be using our reservation and all."

Gwen looks to Rhys, hoping he'll back her up, but he's nodding reasonably at Jack. "No, Jack's right--never thought I'd say that, mate. If we're stealing his reservation, we might as well share. The bloke in charge seemed happy enough to get us a table for four. They're all dressed up. No reason to send them home."

"I'm not dressed up," Ianto says quickly. "This is what I always wear." Ianto is, in fact, slightly dressed up. He's wearing one of his good ties, the ones he doesn't wear to work, and his shoes are shined and new and actual dress shoes, not the sort that pass as fashionable but are really strong enough to fight aliens in.

" _I'm_ dressed up," Jack insists.

Gwen takes a quick look at his usual pleated-trousers-blue-shirt-braces ensemble and says, "No you're not. That's what you always wear."

"These are my nice braces!" Jack says. "I wore these specifically to go out." Gwen glances at Ianto for confirmation. His wince tells her it's true.

"You have pulling braces?" Rhys asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ianto pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. "They're not _pulling braces_ ," Ianto says. Jack schools his expression into one of absolute angelic innocence, at which point Gwen knows they really _are_ pulling braces. Before she can spend too much time marvelling over the fact that Jack has _pulling braces_ Ianto is glaring at Jack and snapping at him again. "You're not _pulling_ anyone tonight."

"Wasn't planning on it," Jack says petulantly. "I was looking nice for _you_ to apologize for...." He gestures and Ianto rolls his eyes.

"I said--"

"And really," Jack continues over Ianto, "maybe _you_ should be apologizing. I didn't know you had a mouth like that on you, Mr. Jones. What would your grandmother say?"

" _Gwen_ knows I have a mouth like that and she's not the one I--"

"Whoa, mate!" Rhys holds up his hands. "That's a bit more about what goes on in your bedroom than I need to know, yeah?"

"Yes, really," Gwen says, seeing her opening. "We really shouldn't intrude. The two of you obviously need some alone time--"

"Exactly," Ianto says. "And you and Rhys, as well. You see me and Jack all day, you should spend your night off with your husband."

At some point, probably around the time it became Rhys and Jack against she and Ianto, they'd shifted position. Gwen's now standing shoulder to shoulder with Ianto. Jack and Rhys are in front of them, both looking perplexed. Gwen wonders how far the two of them can get if they make a run for it.

"I don't understand why it's a big deal," Jack says. "Anton can get us a table for four. Why are you two fighting it?"

"Because you and Rhys can't stand each other!" Gwen blurts out.

She didn't mean to say that.

(Even if it's true.)

Jack and Rhys look at each other and then back to her. Ianto sighs, but adds, "She’s right," even as he shakes his head at the outburst. "Jack, you call Rhys boring six times a day."

"And Rhys calls Jack a tosser at least that often," Gwen points out. Jack and Rhys are still staring at her, caught somewhere between insulted and guilty.

Anton saves her from further mortification--or perhaps enhances it--by choosing that moment to reappear.

"The table will be ready momentarily," he says, still grinning his bright old man grin. "Would you care to wait in the cocktail lounge as we prepare?"

"I need a drink," Ianto murmurs, leading the way without waiting for the rest of them.

"I'm going to need two, at least," Gwen agrees, following quickly.

She doesn't check to see if Rhys and Jack are following.


End file.
